Obsessive Misbehavior
by Bob the Flying Monkey
Summary: Sequel to "Excessive Misbehavior". Bobbi, wife of Voldemort and known to her followers as the Dark Goddess, is back, and she's called in backup. But the new girls aren't making life easier on the men, or on Bobbi for that matter. And with Bobbi playing match-maker for the Death Eaters, will Snape finally get the girl of his dreams? Post sixth book still.
1. A Gathering Of Angels

_Disclaimer: Do I own this? Do you? Of course not, so stop bothering me about it. _

**A/N: Assuming all my followers aren't dead by now, I am finally uploading the sequel to "Excessive Misbehavior"! I know it's a long time coming, but it's here, so read and enjoy.**

…

"It's about time," Voldemort said, staring out into the darkness. He had been anxious all day.

"Are the mail-order brides here?" Bobbi smiled as she walked up behind him.

He turned and smiled curiously at her, "I can't keep anything from you, can I?"

"I'm a woman, and furthermore your wife. You'll learn to get used to it."

He smiled and took her in one arm. They watched as a group of women in dark robes landed on the grass in front of the Lair. They approached the Lair with their hooded heads downward cast. There were eight of them.

"Did you order one for Wormtail?" she asked.

"What a joke!" he laughed.

"Do they know I'm your wife?" she asked seriously.

"They'll find out."

Bobbi's smile widened mischievously. "Oh, this will be fun."

"What are you going to do?" Voldemort asked as she slipped out from under his arm and back down the hall.

"You'll see," she smiled.

"Don't kill anyone yet," he called after her. He turned back to the new arrivals and greeted them with a solemn face. "Greetings, new Death Eaters." They bowed to him and then entered, pulling their hoods off. Five of them were younger, between 21 and 16. The other three were quite a bit older. They stood in the entrance next to the Dark Lord and looked around the deserted halls curiously. It was quite late at night, and none of the other Death Eaters were about. In fact, these girls would be a surprise for the men and boys when they went to breakfast tomorrow morning.

Suddenly, Bobbi came running down the hall towards the large group, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Daddy!" she squealed in her innocent-little-girl voice as she threw herself into Voldemort's arms and kissed him on the lips. The new girls eyed the two with shocked confusion. Bobbi turned and smiled at the girls, "Are these my new playmates?"

Voldemort shook his head as he always did. He patted her on the head gently. Bobbi laughed lightly and held her hand out to the new comers. In her regular, adultish voice, she said, "Hello, I'm the Dark Lord's wife."

Realization dawned on the girls, and they smiled. They each in turn shook her hand. "We'll be showing you to your rooms," Voldemort said, and they led them down the hall. "You'll be two to a room," he informed them.

"So pair up," Bobbi added.

As they walked down the halls, Voldemort whispered to Bobbi, "So how did you find out?"

"I'm an immortal Death Eater who is married to the Dark Lord. I don't exercise caution and restrictions don't apply to me."

"Wormtail let you read the letters."

Bobbi smiled guiltily, "Perhaps."

"That's why he doesn't get one."

"You're so cruel," she giggled.

He smirked, "Well, I am the Dark Lord."

…

The next morning, Bobbi got up early to accompany the women to breakfast, as she had promised them she would the night before. She walked at the head of the group of women, leading them through the halls and into the Dining Hall. This was about the time when most Death Eaters ate, so the room was close to full. One large table that was reserved for the Masters was completely empty. Bobbi sat the women down at that table and they began to eat.

Snape came and joined the table shortly after. "So he finally gave in," Snape said to Bobbi.

"I can be quite persuasive, especially when people get killed over it."

"Or maybe he just wants Goyle to leave you alone."

"One's for you, too," she whispered, "But pick one of legal age, okay."

Snape gave her a rare smirk, "You have a way with words, don't you?" But his face was once more stoic when he added, "But you know why I don't want to get involved again."

Bobbi nodded her head. "Women. You can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em."

"You are more feminine than you let on."

"Yes, and what I said also applies to me. It's a universal trust." Bobbi turned to the women around them, "Ladies, this is Snape, the Potions Master. He makes the potions for the infirmary. If you feel sick and don't trust those in the hospital wing, you can always trust Snape."

All of the women nodded and returned to their eating. But one of them frequently stole glances at Snape throughout the meal.

"When do we get to meet boys?" the youngest one, a sixteen-year-old, asked, giggling.

"Periodically, the Master sends the younger, more energetic Death Eaters into the woods for dueling practice. I'm sure we could get one of those scheduled soon."

"So are you, like, our mother-type figure or something?" one of the younger girls asked.

"If you want to consider me that, you can. But don't tell my husband. You know how men can be. But, yeah. If you have any questions or problems, come and talk to me. I'm also the therapist here. I have my own office and degree and everything."

"Will you help us get boys?" the youngest asked excitedly.

"Sweetie, if you came for the boys, then you've come to the right place. I know everything there is to know about boys, and there is quite an excess of single ones here. You are absolutely guaranteed a date to any formal event we have."

"Of which there aren't very many," Snape added.

"But we weren't gonna say that," Bobbi nudged him. Then she amended, "That's only because we haven't had any single ladies. I'm sure the Master will allow more now that they won't be as awkward. I mean, when everyone that is single is male, couples dancing can be quite queer, in both senses of the word."

"So you didn't have dances at all?" the youngest asked, appalled.

"Oh, no, we had them. When I was the only single female before I got married, we had some. And I had to dance with all the single guys. Which reminds me: Gregory Goyle is a pretty good dancer. He's one of the few who didn't crush my feet."

The girl giggled. "Wait, so did you have to dance with the older men, too?"

"Some of them. I danced with the Master. Of course, we're married now, so you realize that age hardly means a thing to me."

"Though it seems you only date men younger than you," Snape murmured.

Bobbi dug her elbow into him. Why was he being so talkative now? He hardly ever said a word when others were around, especially strangers. Perhaps it was that time of the month again.

"Severus, why don't you show our more adultish women around after breakfast. That way I can introduce these kids to the others kids. Savvy?" Bobbi suggested.

"Of course, Miss Bobbi," Snape obliged.

After breakfast, the girls split into two groups: the five younger girls went with Bobbi, who took them to meet her boys, while the three older women accompanied Snape on a tour of the castle.

The small group of adults walked dutifully through the halls, Snape leading and pointing out all the main rooms. "I suppose it is necessary for us to know each other's names," Snape began, "As our Dark Queen has pointed out, I am Severus Snape."

"I'm Anna Smith," the blonde introduced.

"I'm Mia Thorn," the lady with black hair said.

"I'm Tigerlily Lovegood," the third said. Her appearance matched her name. Her hair was red with black streaks like a tiger, and her eyes were as green as lily pads.

Snape looked at her speculatively, then turned and continued.

Bobbi took the five younger women over to the teenager table. Throughout breakfast, Draco had been observing the girls expectantly, undoubtedly sizing them up to determine which was most suitable to be his girlfriend. Presently, he had his eye on a tall, long-haired, bleach-blonde. Of course the fair-haired legacy had to be preserved. Father would allow nothing else.

"Girls, these are boys," Bobbi introduced, "Talk."

"My name is Robin," began the youngest, most talkative girl.

"My name is Brigit," introduced a particularly average brunette.

Brixy, a short blonde; Pixie, a jet black-haired punkette; and [Name Here], the tall, blonde, slender, oldest girl. Each of the boys introduced himself in turn.

"So, which of you is the best duelist?" Draco asked with a slight sneer.

"That would be me," replied Robin.

"Then I challenge you to a duel."

Robin giggled, "Oh, this will be fun."

…

Snape continued to show Tigerlily the castle. The other women had abandoned them to watch a duel with some guys they had met on the tour, but Tigerlily did not have eyes for other men. She was here for business.

There was a shield around Tigerlily that Snape couldn't explain. Something about her conveyed that she wasn't here for fun; she had a purpose, a mission, and Snape didn't know whether to feel secure around her or to feel afraid. She had a roughness that came from being too soft earlier in life. No doubt she had joined the Death Eaters to get revenge. But from whom?

"So, Miss Lovegood," Snape began.

"Call me Tiger," she corrected.

"Miss Tiger," Snape tried, but the name felt weird on his tongue. "What is your purpose for joining the Death Eaters?"

"Harry Potter," she replied with no intention of explanation.

Snape nodded his head even though her answer barely explained anything. What had Harry Potter ever done to her?

They continued for a time in silence until they came across the Dark Lord, who greeted them with, "Ah Snape. I see you have met your new apprentice."

They bowed to their Master together, and Snape replied, "Yes, Master."

"Carry on," Voldemort dismissed, passing them and continuing toward the Dining Hall.

Then Snape concluded the tour by showing Tiger the Potions Chamber, where they would be working together.

Voldemort floated down the halls with an air of gracefulness that befitted an evil sorcerer. Presently, he was searching for his wife. He wanted to let her know when the orientation meeting for the new special troop of Death Eaters would be. After all, women needed to be told in advance. At last, he spotted Wormtail, who was sure to know Bobbi's whereabouts. It was, after all, his job.

"Master, your wife is down in the dueling chamber," Wormtail told him as he approached.

"Who are dueling?" Voldemort asked as they both headed that way.

"The new girls are dueling the younger boys."

Voldemort smirked inwardly, wondering on which team Bobbi would be.

When they reached the dungeon, there was a large crowd that blocked their path. Voldemort gave Wormtail the slip and escaped to his own private room for watching duels. He did not often use this room, but he loved to watch Bobbi fight because it was always an unfair, humorously humiliating duel.

But when he slipped into the room, Bobbi was already there. She smiled at him, sitting comfortably in his chair. "How did you get in here?" he asked in surprise. He had not told her about this room.

"I have my ways," she smiled mischievously.

Voldemort smiled and shook his head. Bobbi stood and floated gracefully into his arms. He kissed her forehead. "You'll be busy with them for a while, and you'll probably ignore me the entire time," he explained.

"That sounds about right," she chuckled. Then she kissed him back. "I'll always make time for you." Turning away from him, she added, "But not right now. I have to supervise the children and make sure they don't kill each other. Plus, I like to watch my little men bonding." She smiled at him and conjured a second chair in which she sat. She patted the first chair. Obediently, he sat down beside her. Why not watch the children fight? A little entertainment couldn't hurt.

On the dueling stage, Draco and Robin prepared to fight. Rather, Draco prepared while Robin stood cross-armed and rattled off a chain of insults. The words left her smirking mouth so gracefully that it seemed as if she had practiced these exact lines many times before and had perfected the art of cruel words. She hardly knew this boy, yet she seemed to know exactly which buttons to press to make his confidence shatter. She appeared to be enjoying her one-sided conversation.

Finally, in a desperate attempt to silence her, Draco shot an unannounced curse at her. But she blocked it without even a slight hesitation in her unending monologue.

"Cheating, Mr. Draco, will get you nowhere," she mocked, then continued without a pause in her line of insults.

At last, the duel began, and Robin shut her mouth, only allowing curses and spells to pass through her lips. The duel didn't last long. After about 8 spells in total, Draco was out cold.

"You're such a failure, Draco!" Blaise snickered, "Isn't this the second time you've been beaten by a girl?" Draco was too loopy to respond.

"New player?" Robin asked, picking at her nails boredly.

"It seems we have another Bobbi on our hands," Voldemort grinned at his wife.

Bobbi snorted disdainfully, "I could overtake her in 10 seconds flat."

"You've never been that fast before."

"Not while I've been here. I like to toy with my friends, make them feel like I didn't beat them so easily. You should have seen me 50 years ago. I was a beast. I could take out entire armies by myself in less than a day. I was the Master of Sorcery."

"You want to have a duel later just for fun?" he asked with a disbelieving smirk.

"I'll go easy on you," she smiled.

"No. Go hard on me. I want to see your A-game."

"No, trust me, you don't."

"You put too much faith in yourself."

"I could say the same for you."

"Here. Midnight. Alone. I want to see your best," he demanded.

"Fine. But it's your funeral."

Voldemort's smile dropped, "You won't kill me again, will you? I'm starting to run out of Horcruxes."

Bobbi laughed. "I didn't mean it like that. I would never kill you. I love you too much."

His smile returned, "Yeah, you better."

"Or what?" Her smile broadened.

"Or else." His grin widened as well.

Back on the dueling floor, Brixy was approaching Robin. "Robin, why don't you let some of us duel the boys? You'll have plenty of time to utterly humiliate them later."

Robin smiled, "Okay. I can do that." She skipped gaily off the platform, surrendering her spot to the blonde.

Brixy turned to the group of boys and waved at them invitingly. "Who wants to duel me?" There was an aura of innocence around her, just as there was around all of the younger girls, including Bobbi. But were they, like Bobbi, only faking? Robin was for sure. She had shown her true colors during the duel – she was tough and cruel. Or maybe she was just playful. Either way, she was not as innocent as she appeared.

Blaise smiled back at Brixy. "I'll duel you," he volunteered, stepping onto the floor. He was two heads taller than this short little girl. They were very much opposites in appearance: Brixy was fair-skinned and light-haired while Blaise was dark-skinned and black-haired. His eyes were brown and hers were blue. She was the most unintimidating girl he had ever seen. But Blaise had learned that looks could be deceiving, so he would not judge her by them. And he was right not to do so.

The battle between the two lasted for as long as the others waiting in line would let it. Eventually, they had to call it a draw because neither could out-do the other. At the end, they shook hands and retired together to the sidelines.

Crabbe and Brigit were the next to duel, ending with Crabbe getting the snot beat out of him. While it was not as humiliating as Draco's defeat, it was still a subject of mockery on Crabbe's part. From then on, Crabbe would harbor a crush for Brigit.

In the end, Phil was the only boy to defeat a girl. He defeated Pixie. [Name Here], of course, beat Mel. Mel was still unskilled in the art of sorcery.

The large group of youths left together to wander the halls and create mischief while Bobbi and Voldemort were otherwise occupied. As the couple were kissing in their secret room without doors, Wormtail popped in unexpectedly.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort yelled at him.

"Sorry, my lord," he whimpered and left.

Bobbi giggled, "It's like he knows the most awkward time to pop in on us."

"He doesn't even know about this room," Voldemort complained in agitated astonishment.

"You're not very good at secret keeping," Bobbi laughed, "You're worse than I am, and I'm a girl."

"Do you dare call yourself superior to the Dark Lord?" Voldemort accused in an almighty voice, puffing up his chest like a blowfish.

"Do you dare question the authority of the Dark Goddess?" Bobbi challenged with a mischievous smile, sliding her hand down his chest, which immediately deflated.

"Cheater," Voldemort chuckled.

"Cheating is more fun," Bobbi smiled.

…

At midnight, the couple met back in the deserted dueling chambers.

"Did you bring your A-game?" Bobbi asked.

Voldemort nodded smugly. "When's the last time you fed on blood?" he questioned her.

Bobbi laughed, "So you remembered. It's been a week and a half. You might have a chance of beating me this time."

Voldemort frowned. "Last time we fought, I was drunk. I wasn't at my best."

Bobbi smirked. "Okay, hon. Whatever you say."

Voldemort made a face at her. "Let's get started. Ladies first," he offered.

They bowed to each other and the duel began. On the first curse form Voldemort, Bobbi crumpled to the floor theatrically and groaned melodramatically, "Oh, I'm dead, I'm dead! You killed me! Aah!"

Voldemort chuckled and waved his wand at her, "Get up, you drama queen. You're not getting out of this so easily."

And for the next hour, the two fought neck-and-neck, taking blow after blow and always getting up. They were equally stubborn and would not give each other any slack. But eventually, they got tired, and finally after a careless mistake, Bobbi took the fall. Voldemort shot an extremely powerful spell at her, which hit her square in the chest, knocking her down where she cracked her head hard against the floor.

"Ow," she groaned weakly.

Voldemort cackled at her, amused. "Stop being so dramatic." He cackled more.

"No," she moaned, "I'm serious." She pulled her hand out from behind her head and it was drenched in blood.

At this revelation, Tom's laughing stopped short. "Oh, man," he gawked, "Wow. Did I really do that?"

"No, Tom. It was the floor that cracked my head open," she replied sarcastically.

"Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring the comment, "That's a lot of blood. Do you want to see a nurse?"

"Maybe I do," she mumbled, pressing her palm to her cut and wincing from the pain of it. "Dang! I ain't s'posta be able to feel pain."

At her words, Tom gaped at her in horror. "Oh no! You're reverting!"

Bobbi smiled faintly, then groaned and grimaced. "I might need to see Snape. He'll know what to do."

"Right," Tom nodded, gathering his bleeding wife in his arms. Quickly, he sped her to Snape's potions office, which doubled as his study and bedroom. It had multiple rooms branching off of the main room.

Bobbi rapped on the door loudly. After a momentary pause, Snape's peeved voice demanded, "What is it?"

"Your Masters demand your attention," Voldemort answered with his voice of superiority.

Immediately the door opened. If it had just been Bobbi, Snape would have made a sarcastic or rude quip about the ordeal, which was their usual, mutual way of greeting each other. But when Voldemort was present, all unnecessary comments had to be omitted. Snape made a sweeping motion with his arm, "Come in." He bowed slightly. He'd always found this demeaning (as was its purpose), so Bobbi never made him do it to her, but of course it was required with the Dark Lord's presence. Crazy old man thought he was something.

Getting right to the point, Voldemort said, "We were dueling and she fell and cracked her head open. There's a lot of blood."

"When he says 'dueling' he means 'having sex'," she mumbled past the throbbing of her skull.

"It mustn't be too bad if she's retained her personality," Snape assured, setting straight to work on cleaning the wound.

"Sorry to disappoint," she replied, "Ow!"

"Hush," Snape shushed simply, and she was quiet. The room held its breath as Snape worked. After he had the wound bandaged, he handed Bobbi a green flask and commanded her to drink.

After she had drained it, she asked, "What's the diagnosis, doctor? How many days do I have to live?"

He turned to Voldemort as if she hadn't said a word, "It's a shallow cut. Nothing broken. She should be fine. For some reason, however, I can't seem to get my wand to seal it. Luckily, I had this archaic bandage. It should quit hurting in a few minutes when the potion takes effect. Other than that, it's fine," then he turned to Bobbi, "You won't die."

"But why does it hurt?" Bobbi winced, "I usually don't feel pain, especially not from such a small damage as this."

"When was the last time you drank?"

"A couple weeks ago, but that shouldn't matter in an instance such as this. If it had been over a month, then perhaps." She winced and lightly touched her cut.

"If the pain persists, come see me in the morning. For now, rest would be best for you."

Bobbi stood carefully and, taking her husband's hand, left the room. "Thanks, Snape."

…

The next afternoon, Bobbi paid another visit to Snape. "Severus, I think I know what's wrong with me."

…

**A/N: Okay, kittens. This was the first chapter. If you want to know what happened to Bobbi, tune in to the next chapter. Hint: leech.**


	2. The Twist and Shout

_Disclaimer: Copyrights are beautiful creatures, but if you don't respect their territory, things could get ugly. Fortunately, I am not infringing upon the copyrights that declare J. K. Rowling is the true owner of _Harry Potter.

**A/N: And now for the second chapter. It might take a while for the third chapter to be up because I skipped it and went on to a later chapter (that's where the Muses dropped me), but I will have it up as soon as it's written. Enjoy this psychotic use of my time! **

* * *

The following week, Voldemort noticed that Bobbi seemed to be preoccupied with something, something she wasn't telling him about. Being the impatient man he was, he couldn't stand for her to have a secret and keep him in the dark about it, and he was tired of waiting for her to share by the fifth day.

That night, when they were alone in their bed, she refused him. She slid to the very edge of the huge, king-size bed and faced the wall, hugging her arms to her midriff. Voldemort was angry – no one had ever refused him before – but he tried to cool his temper. This was his wife, she was having issues, and he loved her. He had to be sensitive; women liked that. Swallowing his fury, he gently trailed his hand down her back. "Bobbi, is something wrong?"

"Mhmm," she mumbled.

"What is it?" he asked in what he hoped was a sympathetic voice, "Is it your head still? Does it hurt again?"

She shook her head, then realizing it was dark, answered softly, "No."

"Then what is it?" he half-snapped. He paused, trying to soften his tone, and whispered, "You can tell me. Trust me. I'll understand."

"I'm tired, okay?" she snapped back.

Tom's jaw popped open. She had never used that tone with him. She must be really sick. An awkward silence befell them.

"I'm sorry, Tom," Bobbi whispered, turning in the bed to face him, "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just… in a bad mood. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"Even though it is my fault," he added jokingly. She didn't reply. Not even in the joking mood. Something was seriously wrong.

Suddenly, she was in his arms, her tear-dampened face buried in his chest. She was suddenly sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm…so…sorry…" she sobbed.

"Whoa," he stroked her hair in a soothing manner. "Hey," he shushed caringly, "Bobbi. It's okay. Don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she squeaked through her tears.

"For what?" he asked, bewildered.

"For crying like a… like a…" she continued to sob, soaking him with her tears.

"Bobbi, calm down," he whispered into her ear coaxingly, willing her to stop crying. "Bobbi," he whispered again, kissing her cheek. He took his hand and gently wiped away her tears as she began to regain control. He hugged her tightly, comfortingly, and rubbed her back as he always did when she was upset. She calmed down quickly, relaxing in his arms.

After a long silence, Bobbi whispered choppily, "I'm sorry I haven't been honest with you, Tom."

"Hush," he breathed, tilting her chin up to look her in the eyes. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it tomorrow, can't we?"

She nodded, taking a shaky breath. She stretched her neck and pecked him briefly on the lips. "You're so understanding."

* * *

The next morning, Tom woke up to find his wife already out of bed. She was staring at herself in the mirror, wearing only her underwear.

Remembering the strange occurrence of the night, he decided he would be light with her. He slipped out of bed and rested his head on her shoulder, kissed her cheek lightly. "Vain little thing, aren't you?" he chuckled softly, "The slightest pudge of fat, and you can't sleep worrying about it." Did that explain it? Was his joke, in fact, true?

"I'm not fat," she said, running her hand over her naked stomach.

"I know you're not. I'm just teasing you," he assured.

"No, Tom, I don't think you understand. There is another reason for this bump."

Tom's pleasant smile dropped, "What is it?"

Bobbi looked up at him, then took his hand and pressed it gently to her belly. "You can't feel it yet, but there is something inside of me."

Tom's eyes widened in realization. "A baby?" It all made sense. The mood swings, the detachment of herself from everyone else.

"Yeah. I ate one last night, but it didn't seem to die, and now it's growing inside of me." At least her sense of humor was back.

"Are you seriously pregnant?"

She looked at him with a solemn face and nodded, "Yes. I honestly am. And I believe it's yours." She looked back into the mirror and gently caressed her stomach.

Tom stared helplessly at her. A baby! She was going to have his baby! He was going to be a father! And suddenly he felt overwhelmingly frightened, more so than he ever had before. Yet at the same time he felt oddly fulfilled, like having a child completed him. He knelt down beside Bobbi and kissed her stomach.

Bobbi giggled. "What should we name it?"

"Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked, caressing her belly too.

"I don't know," Bobbi confessed, "Snape only knew the spell to tell if one's pregnant or not. But I haven't had my period in two months."

"So Snape knows," he said blankly.

"I had to ask him. I didn't know the spell, and I didn't want to get you worked up in case I wasn't. I've only known for a week. I've been trying to figure out how to tell you."

Tom stood up and embraced Bobbi. A baby! Could life be any more perfect? "When do you want to tell the others?"

"Whenever you want to," she answered.

"Let's keep it between us for now. You don't want everyone fussing over it yet, do you?"

Bobbi chuckled, "Not yet. They probably won't let me do anything as soon as they find out."

"Precisely," he agreed, kissing her forehead.

* * *

Breakfast that morning was brutal for Bobbi. If there was one thing she despised more than poorly written fanfics, it was not being able to brag about how awesome she was. And at the age of 353, getting pregnant was definitely something to brag about. But as she sat next to her husband and stared at a random water stain on her spoon, she fantasized about all the ways she could torture Draco with the fact that she was pregnant. First she would scar him mentally by describing in detail how she and Voldemort had made the baby. Then she would scar him further by telling him the process of evicting the baby from the uterus. She might even threaten to show him the video of her first child's birth, but then she decided against it because only Snape and her husband knew of her family in America.

Halfway through the meal, she noticed that Gregory had been staring at her boobs more than usual, so she looked down to make sure she hadn't forgotten her bra again. Everything seemed fine, but she made a note to scold Gregory for his terrible skills of subtlety. And fortunately for her, she never forgot to annoy/scold/torture somebody.

After the meal, Bobbi offered to walk Gregory back to his room. He accepted gladly, but something in his eyes gave away his concern for her. Bobbi decided to get straight to the point. "Gregory, you were staring at my boobs at breakfast. Now, you know I don't mind you admiring them as long as you don't touch, but you also know what the Master would do to you if he caught you undressing me with your eyes. So in the future, wait until you're not in a crowded place to stare at my tatas."

Gregory chuckled halfheartedly, then sighed and shook his head. "I wasn't being a pervert. I kept looking at them because I swear they've gotten bigger. Have you been eating Tyson chicken again?"

Bobbi's humored smile dimmed slightly. "Oh. Are they bigger? I hadn't noticed."

"Well, I've noticed, and I'd bet I'm not the only one."

"Your overconfidence of how much people other than yourself scrutinize me and my breasts is amusing. The only person who watches me more than you is my husband, and that's still up for debate."

"Perhaps, but how long did it take for him to figure out you are pregnant?"

Bobbi stopped dead in her tracks. She glanced around, then pulled Gregory into an empty room. "How do you know I'm pregnant?"

Gregory smirked. "Like you said, I watch you very closely. I've been your best mate for several years – was your best man at your wedding. I know you, and I know when something changes in you."

Bobbi shook her head in amusement. "You never cease to amaze me. Alright, I'm pregnant. I told Tom this morning, and he took it rather well. In fact, he actually seemed pleased with the information. Who knew the Dark Lord wanted kids?"

"You realize babies are a handful, right? You won't be able to go out on raids as often as you want. You'll have to sacrifice some murder sprees in order to take care of him or her."

"I know, Gregory. I've been a mom before."

"You have?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Oops. I forgot I hadn't told you. I have a daughter in America. Don't tell anyone; it's a secret. She's a third year."

"Wow. I did not know that. I never would have suspected you had a kid already. You don't act like any mother I know."

"Precisely why I don't want people knowing I'm pregnant yet. They'll keep me in bed and won't let me do anything fun, like they have a better idea of what being a mother means than I do. You gotta promise not to tell. Promise."

"I promise. How many people know other than us?"

"You, me, Tom, and Snape. That's all, and it will stay that way until I choose to tell. Or until my water breaks in the middle of dinner and I deliver on the floor of the Dining Hall. But that's unlikely, because I'll get fat really fast. It always happens fast in my family. I'm practically showing already."

"Oh, no you're not. Just in your breasts. Promise me one thing, though."

"What?"

"Name it something brilliant, like Desmond. Just don't give it a bland name."

Bobbi laughed. "Okay, you got it. But I can't make promises about Desmond."

* * *

In his personal lab, Snape walked his new apprentice, Tiger, through the setup and basics of the room. He showed her where the ingredients were and how to handle an emergency. He pointed out the reference books which hadn't been used in so long, he was sure he'd been taller then.

"And that door leads to my bedroom, which is out-of-bounds. I will ask you not to disclose its location to anyone else, either."

"Of course not, Snape. Who would I tell?"

"Now, Mistress Bobbi has requested a certain potion be brewed at our earliest convenience. This seems a reasonable time, wouldn't you agree?"

Tiger nodded curtly. "Which potion is it?"

"It's an enriching potion, somewhat like a vitamin supplement boost. I have gathered the ingredients and need you to portion them out as I dictate while I make the potion myself."

"I did pass my Potions class with exemplary marks, sir," Tiger remarked.

"Nonetheless, I will make this one myself. It will be quicker and easier that way. All other potions will be prepared by both of us equally."

Tiger skimmed through the ingredients. "These look vaguely familiar. If I'm not mistaken, these exact ingredients are used in an ale for treating morning sickness. And, if I'm not mistaken, that's an ailment brought on by pregnancy."

"I have no comment on the matter." Snape set to work brewing the potion.

"The Dark Lord's wife is pregnant. That isn't a safe move on their part. I'd have thought he'd use protection against that."

"If you know nothing else about Bobbi, know this: anyone she protects need not worry about injury or death. Bobbi once jumped out of the Owlery window to save a friend's life. Danger hath no enemy greater than Bobbi, yet also no friend greater. If Bobbi decides she wants you to live, you will live. If she decides death is better, then death it will be. If death could fear, it would fear Bobbi."

"But she is pregnant," Tiger clarified.

"You are not to spread that rumor to anyone."

"As you wish, Snape."

* * *

Later that week, Bobbi took her six boys and five girls out into the field beyond the Lair and orchestrated a practice battle. "Now I want a clean fight. I know the teams are a little uneven, but we'll put a handicap on the girls if you boys are afraid they'll beat you too easily." The girls laughed, but the boys scowled. "No handicap, then. Alright, rules are: no Unforgivable Curses, nothing above the neck or below the belt, and try not to kill each other or get bloodstains on anything – we just washed. If there are no objects, begin!" Bobbi hopped on her broom and flew overhead to observe the battle from a safe distance.

The young magicians ran into the trees for shelter as Bobbi watched them from above. Wherever she saw flashes of light, she zoomed over and tried to catch glimpses of the duel. Everything was going well until a circle of trees suddenly sprang into the air and flew toward her. Bobbi incinerated them all, and their ashes rained down on the leaves below. Bobbi flew over to the bald patch and descended to the forest floor where Gregory sat holding an unconscious Robin.

"Her spell caused the trees to explode, and a clump of roots hit her, and she hit her head, and I don't know if she's okay," Gregory explained as Bobbi landed beside him.

Bobbi thrust the broom into Gregory's hand and helped him position Robin on the handle in front of him. "Hold on tightly to her. Take her to the hospital wing. Stay with her until she gets better. I'll check in on her later." Gregory nodded and zoomed off back to the Lair with the unconscious witch in tow. She watched them leave with a worried look on her face, only realizing that she was now stranded in the middle of the battlefield with no means of escape once the broom was out of sight. "Effing cows!" she exclaimed under her breath. She crossed her arms and began her journey back to the clearing on foot. "I'll just Accio a broom when I get into open land," she told herself aloud.

Suddenly, a cacophony of shrieks rose from beyond the trees to her right. She rolled her eyes, rolled up her sleeves, and headed toward the noise further into the trees. Then the ground began to shudder, and she peered through the gaps to try to get a better view of what was happening, picking up speed as she rushed to the children's aid. The shrieks grew louder, so she knew she was getting close. It only took half a minute before she collided with the remaining duelists (though thankfully not literally), all but three of them. But before she had time to discover which three were missing, she saw what they were running from, and immediately ran after them. "Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!" she said, ascending the nearest tree that could hold her weight. A gang of trolls barely dressed in scraggly loin clothes chased after the kids, and Bobbi realized that her friends had no chance with how slow they were running compared to the giant trolls, so she did the only thing logical to her. "Levicorpi," she said, shooting the six witches and wizards into the air, far above the reach of the trolls. She set them all into the branches of the tall, sturdy trees that surrounded them, completely confounding the caveman-creatures still on the ground. They looked into the sky above them, but Bobbi had had foresight to hide her friends from terrarial view. The trolls soon gave up the hunt and trampled back the way they'd come. As soon as they were out of sight, Bobbi sighed in relief, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. She summoned another broom and flew over to the others hanging in the trees. "You guys okay?" she asked the circle.

They all mumbled their well-being. "But Mel's still back there," Phil added, "I mean, he's alright – he also climbed up a tree – but you should go get him."

Bobbi nodded. "Where are Brixy and Blaise?"

"We haven't seen them," [Name Here] replied.

"Don't move. I'll go retrieve Mel. Then we can search for the others together." Bobbi zoomed off in the direction Phil pointed her, scouting the area for the youngest wizard. Luckily, he was wearing a bright orange shirt. Unluckily, it was easily spotted by Bobbi as well as by the trolls surrounding the base of the tree and shaking it violently. Bobbi pulled up beside him and pulled him onto the front of her broom, then sped off as the animals protested below. "You okay, Mel?" she asked, holding him securely around the chest with one arm as she raced off to the Lair.

"Been better," he remarked, slurring his words as he held his head with both hands.

"You'll be okay soon," she assured, taking the short cut into the infirmary via window. She sat him down on the cot next to Robin, quickly explained to Gregory what had happened, then took off through the window and back to the trees, leading a procession of brooms she'd picked up from the shed below the window. They were old and rotten in places, but still flew well enough to get the next occupants back to the castle.

When Bobbi pulled up in front of them with the brooms, Draco immediately whined, "You expect us to ride _those_? They're ancient! I have great grandparents younger than that."

"If you would rather spend the night in this tree, I understand. But I don't have time to go to Diagon Alley and buy you a Nimbus 2012."

Draco groaned, but got onto one of the brooms anyway. "My robe is going to smell like bark for the next five years."

"You'll probably still be wearing it in five years at the rate you grow," Bobbi teased.

Draco scowled. "Shut up and go find Blaise. I'm going to eat lunch." He took off in the direction of the Lair.

"Well, that was rude," Pixie said, crossing her arms briefly before her broom began to tip forward and she had to reposition them on the handle.

"Does anyone have a guess as to which direction to look in first?" Bobbi asked.

"Um, I thought I saw Brixy run off into the trees on the adjacent side of the field," Brigit volunteered.

"Blaise went the same way," Crabbe said, glancing at Brigit, "I bet he wanted to duel her, since their last duel was a draw. Personally, I respect my competitor if I don't win, and I wouldn't demand a rematch like a child." He caught Brigit's eye as she looked at him, but averted his attention after a second.

"Alright. Onward to the other side," Bobbi commanded, leading them that way.

"How are we going to find them?" [Name Here] asked. "That's a lot of trees."

"We'll just have to get closer to the ground," Bobbi said, "I don't have the tracking potion that would solve this problem. Oh crap." Bobbi abruptly did a nose dive into the branches, catching everyone off guard so that they scrambled to follow her.

Phil led them slowly to the ground, landing a few paces from the vomiting witch. "Are you okay, Bobbi?" Phil asked.

She wiped her mouth on a tissue and got unsteadily to her feet. "I'm fine. Just got a little air-sick, is all." She looked around the area, then pointed in one direction. She perked up an eat and the rest of the people fell silent. Wordlessly, she motioned for them to follow her and crept into the woods. The others looked at each other, then followed her as a clump. They stopped in unison when they saw Bobbi crouching low to the ground, and stooped down to hide with her. Several yards away, completely ignorant of their spying, Blaise had Brixy wrapped in his arms, snogging as they leaned against a wide trunk. Brixy giggled as Blaise moved to her neck, sucking on the supple flesh with his pillowy, brown lips.

Just then, Bobbi's back arched and try as she might, she could not hold back the vomit that spewed from her throat. The kissing couple turned around in embarrassment and horror as Crabbe and Brigit burst into laughter. Pixie chuckled briefly, patting Bobbi on the back and saying, "It makes me sick, too."

Brixy's cheeks flushed a deep scarlet color as she hitched up her shirt collar. Blaise, however, was furious. "I can't even get a girlfriend without you creeps teasing me for it! Why do I even bother with you?"

"She didn't throw up on purpose," [Name Here] snapped, putting her hands on her hips in a motherly fashion. She helped Bobbi to her feet and handed her a fresh tissue.

"We should get back now," Bobbi declared as she washed her face with a moist towelette. They returned to the brooms, then remembered they were two brooms short.

"You can have my broom, Brixy," Phil offered, "I'll ride with Bobbi, make sure she doesn't pass out or anything."

"I won't pass out," Bobbi protested.

"Nonetheless, you're sick. Get off your high thestral and let me ride with you. If the Master found out we let you fly alone in this condition, he would have all our heads."

Bobbi rolled her eyes, but handed him the broom anyway. "Just this once, I'll allow it, but only because I'm a bit light-headed from vacating my guts."

Brigit turned to Blaise. "You can take my broom. I'll just share with Pixie."

"My broom's not really in the best condition," Pixie objected, illustrating her point when she picked up the broom and it sagged pathetically in her hand.

"You can ride with me," Crabbe offered, giving his broom a good thump, "Mine's in great shape."

Brigit shrugged. "Alright. But I'm sitting behind you and taking a nap on your back. All that running made me tired."

Crabbe shrugged. "Fine by me. Hop on."

"Why can't I ride with Brixy?" Blaise demanded.

"Because I'm not in the mood to find you guys when you run off again," Bobbi answered. "In fact, I want you to lead the formation, Blaise. That way I can watch you."

Blaise exploded, "I'm not a child!"

"Then why are you having a temper-tantrum like one?"

Blaise huffed in indignation, but mounted his rickety broom and shot off into the sky.

"Nice pick, Brix," Pixie snickered.

"Zip it, Pix," Brixy replied half-heartedly.

The five brooms rose as a unit and returned to the Lair together. Upon landing, Pixie's broom splintered and died, and she kicked the stick with a careless toe. Crabbe refused to land, insisting that his broom was on the fritz and wouldn't do as he commanded. Brigit giggled as he jerked the thing to and fro, but only lightly because he didn't want her getting sick, too. At last, he put the thing down and held Brigit's hand as she swung her leg over the handle even though the broom was flat on the ground. Phil offered Bobbi a supporting arm, but agreed she didn't need it when she declined since her color had come back.

Blaise was waiting at the door when they got there, but held it open only long enough for Brixy to enter, then hurried inside and let it slam definitively. [Name Here] clicked her tongue and held open the door for the rest of the gang.

"I just remembered," Phil said, "Where are Goyle and Robin?"

"Infirmary with Mel," Bobbi said, "Robin knocked herself out with a tree, and Gregory took her there for me."

"That reminds me; why is it that you and Goyle are the only ones to go by your last names?" Brigit asked Crabbe.

"Uh, I dunno. I guess it's because that's all Malfoy ever called us, and it just stuck."

"I don't even know your first name."

"It's Vincent," he said, staring at his feet and blushing slightly.

"Vincent. That's a nice name. My name's Brigit," she smiled, holding out her hand. He awkwardly shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure's mine," he replied.

* * *

Gregory sat on the cot next to Robin's, fiddling with his shirttail. Mel had been given some medicine to relieve his dizziness and left some time ago. The attendants had left a bottle for Robin on the end table beside her cot and instructed him to tell her to drink it when she came to. Then they'd left him to go to lunch. Currently, Gregory was fantasizing about lunch, all the delectable food lining the long tables of the Dining Hall, how their delicious smell wafted through the corridors, right up to his nose, a tantalizing aroma of elusion. His stomach growled, and he groaned with longing.

As if on cue, Bobbi swished into the wing, balancing two plates piled high with the morsels Gregory had thought he'd been imagining smelling. She set them down expertly, one on the end table and the other on his cot. "You're a life saver, you know." He dug immediately into his food.

Bobbi nodded, replying solemnly, "I think I have a psychic connection with your stomach. It's as if a thousand hungry voices cried out and were suddenly silenced."

Gregory grinned briefly, then became consumed in his consuming. Bobbi hopped up on the cot next to him after he'd moved his plate to his lap. "So, has she come to yet?"

He shook his head. "Not even stirred. But the nurses said the bump was only minor, that she must be exhausted from something else. They put some salve on it and sealed the small cut above her brow."

Bobbi scrutinized the girl. "She doesn't look critical – honestly, she looks like she's sleeping. No color depigmentation; smooth, regular breathing and heart rate." She leaned forward and sniffed, then jerked back and wrinkled her nose, "Blugh! Not very pleasant to the nose."

"Bobbi!" Gregory scolded, nearly choking on his chicken, "That's insensitive. How would you like it if you were lying in a hospital bed and someone said you stunk."

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant her blood; vampire, remember? I was checking the smell of her blood because you can usually tell a lot about a person just by how their blood smells."

"Like what?" Gregory asked, a skeptical bend in his brow.

"Like emotions or blood type or what kind of drugs they've been taking. I can even tell when someone's menstruating, but that's a simple trick. That's one of the first things a vampire learns."

"Prove it. Smell my blood. What does it tell you?"

"I don't know if I want to play this game. It generally leads to arguing."

"Then I don't believe you. You're just making it up so you have an excuse to insult her."

Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I warned you." She leaned forward and sniffed his shoulder. "You're young, between the ages of 18 and 25. Your blood type is AB +. You have poor circulation in your left hand."

"Too easy. You could have figured that out in the first few months of our friendship. That information wouldn't convince a first year."

"You were aroused recently," Bobbi blurted.

Gregory's smirk dropped, replaced by a frown. "Lucky guess. All guys get aroused at least twice a day – "

"It was in the last two hours," Bobbi continued, "It lasted for roughly 10 minutes. You barely moved while it was happening, but stood up or something immediately after it wore off, probably paced a bit, too, before sitting back down."

Gregory stared at her in bewilderment. "How do you know all that?"

Bobbi rolled her eyes. "I'm a vampire. We can do that sort of thing. I can also tell if someone's lying, though it's not a foolproof power. If you can control your emotions – heart rate, adrenaline, internal balance – then you can fool a lie-detector. But it takes years of practice and overwhelming self-control – something most humans lack. It's much harder for a human to deceive a vampire than for another vampire to do it. For example, my father and I can never tell when the other's lying. He's a vampire too, you see."

Gregory rubbed his chin, then replied, "I guess that's why they say you're 200% witch."

Bobbi laughed heartily and jumped to her feet. With a final chuckle, she waved to Gregory, "Come find me if anything happens." Then she returned to her other business.

When Bobbi's footsteps faded entirely, Robin opened her eyes and sat up in bed, stretched, and smiled at Gregory. "About time. I thought she would never leave."

Gregory started. "How long have you been awake?"

"Quite some time. Since before you were left alone by the nurses. I've just been resting my eyes a bit, catching up on my current events. Bobbi's a vampire, then? I'd've never guessed with the way she flouts about in the sun."

"She's only part vampire," Gregory explained, "Half werewolf, half vampire, and 200% witch. That's what she tells everybody."

"You know for sure she's telling the truth?"

Gregory nodded. "Everyone who was here when the Master died last year knows. We've seen her change, into a werewolf as well as a vampire. I still have nightmares about it."

"The Master died? Now, I have to hear this one." Robin gave him a compelling smile.

So Gregory, despite the vague nagging feeling in the back of his head, told the story to Robin, about Jake and his love for Bobbi that became a dangerous obsession, his running away and coming back, the kiss that ruined his life, deceiving Fenrir and trapping Bobbi in the woods, how Voldemort sacrificed his life to save Bobbi, and finally the gruesome details of Bobbi's revenge. "But a month later, the Dark Lord returned to the Lair, alive. I'm still not sure how, but Bobbi told me not to worry about it – it's too complicated." His eyes glazed over as the events following Voldemort's resurrection resurfaced in his mind, and the pain that had never fully stopped became fresh again.

"Gregory? Are you okay? I didn't mean to reopen old wounds or anything."

Gregory shook his head, scattering the memories. "No, it's okay. There was a lot of emotional turmoil, is all. Like a big, bloody sod-bomb exploded inside the castle. I don't want to talk about it – we've mostly put this behind us."

Robin placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Life sucks sometimes, Gregory. It sucks a lot, actually, but not always. Things never fail to look up after a time. It just takes some time, little one."

"Thanks. That actually makes me feel better. You have a way with words – it reminds me of Bobbi. In fact, a lot of things about you remind me of her. You even look like her – tan skin, pretty eyes (although yours are indigo, right?), and a small body. Only difference is your eye color and your hair. Personally, I think brown hair looks better with your skin than blonde."

Robin put her reddish-light brown hair in front of her eyes and held her hand up behind it. "I suppose it does. My hair is also curly, whereas hers is straight. I don't think we look that much alike."

Gregory studied her intense eyes. "No, I don't guess so. But you could convince people you were sisters if you wanted to."

"Having Bobbi as a big sister would totally rock!" Robin exclaimed, pumping her fist. Then her stomach growled, so she grabbed her plate and started eating the lukewarm food.

Gregory watched her for a moment, then asked, "Are we not going to talk about what happened?"

"When?"

"When you stunned me and then draped yourself across my body."

"You mean when you got horny, or _aroused_ as Bobbi puts it?"

Gregory blushed. "You laid yourself on top of me. What was I supposed to do?"

Robin continued eating, blowing through the plate faster than even Gregory could manage. At last she said, "I draped myself over you. So what? You liked it."

"You were victimizing me!"

"I was not! It never got to that point."

"But you were going to, and I want to know why. I don't like being toyed with."

Robin rolled her eyes. "I like you, okay? I'm not very good with expressing my emotions through words. I tend to skip straight to actions."

Gregory was stunned. "You like me? Why?"

Robin shrugged. "You seem nice. Also, Bobbi says you're a great dancer, and I love to dance. It just seems logical."

Gregory shook his head in bafflement. "You just met me. You can't determine if you like me yet. You have to get to know me first."

Robin thought about it briefly. "Alright, let's get to know each other. Accio stereo."

Gregory cocked a brow. "Stereo?" Just then, a large, silver boom box zipped through the doors and came to rest on the cot at Robin's left. She clicked it on and set her dish aside, hopping up and looking at Gregory expectantly. "What's all this?"

"You want us to get to know each other. I learn who people are through dance. Take my waist and show me who you are." She flicked her wrist, and the floor cleared before her, giving her enough room for a dance floor. She held out her hand. "Come on."

Gregory hesitated, then pinched himself. Not a dream. So he slid to his feet and took Robin in his arms ballroom style. "What do we do?"

"Get to know each other."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to upload this. But I'm on a roll now!**


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